


Changing

by InfernalPume



Category: Leviathan - Scott Westerfeld
Genre: Gen, Illnesses, Vampire Turning, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 17:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9452672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfernalPume/pseuds/InfernalPume
Summary: ((Someone wanted to know how Deryn became a vampire))





	

“Well, we can rule out infection,”

 

The doctor speaks with her parents just outside her bedroom and Deryn is barely awake, but she can still hear them. Even though she’s dead tired, more exhausted then she has likely ever been, Deryn strains her ears to listen as best she can. Ma and Da don’t like telling her bad news, she learned that the hard way when Litty the Kitty “ran away”. If Deryn was to have any idea of just how sick she was, she’d have to stay awake whenever she could.

 

“Once again, I _strongly_ urge you to seek medical attention from the West End of the city, there’s only so much our hospitals can offer.”

 

“We can’t afford it,” That was Deryn’s Ma speaking now, “We can’t move unless the college grants Arty more money.”

 

The voices hush then, Deryn manages to sit up in her pillows as she tries to make them out.

 

“I don’t see why Maggie or I can’t offer any for the transfusion,” Da sounded angry, “Surely it doesn’t _matter-“_

 

“She has an incredibly _rare_ blood type,” The doctor explains, “Donating either of yours will only cause further problems.”

 

Deryn allows herself to relax. This argument Da’s brought up before, and she knows it will only go in circles from here. And really its so much more comfortable to just lie back and watch the bustle of the city life outside cast shadows in her bedroom. Over the past few weeks Deryn has spent a lot of time here, she’s getting rather sick of the wallpaper.

 

Perhaps it’s the pain medicine, or maybe all the time cooped up in her room to reflect, but Deryn Sharp is coming to terms with the fact she’ll be dead at fourteen.

 

The more sensible part of her wanted to at least hold out until the summer. Deryn was determined to reach her birthday before she died, either through some cosmic defiance or just because fifteen was a better number to put on a tombstone. But a large part of her also wishes that the infection or her blood or whatever was wrong would hurry up. She didn’t like lying here while everyone in the family told her she’d be right as rain in just a few days. That was rubbish and all of them knew it.

 

The _only_ solace was that at least she didn’t have to watch Jaspert’s little brat anymore. Before she’d fallen ill she’d have to look after the baby all hours of the day. Something to do with “New Baby Blues”, meaning Deryn’s sister-in-law didn’t like to touch her own son. Deryn understood that, why would _anyone_ want anything to do with something that only knows how to shit and scream? Still, she didn’t see why that meant _she_ had to be his Ma instead.

 

Deryn pushed the thoughts from her mind when she heard voices rising, and took note of a few swears she had never heard before. If she were going to meet the angels, at least she’d do it with a rich vocabulary. The door to their little townhouse opened and closed, Deryn waited for her parents to prepare a prettier version of the Doctor’s grim news.

 

At least one of them needs to wear a brave face, and when Ma and Da come in Deryn decides it might as well be her. She smiles to each of them and snuggles down in her blankets like its just a cold that has her bedridden. Seeing the smile gives Ma strength, but Da doesn’t quite have it in him. He crosses to the window, unable to look at her.

 

“Deryn,” Ma says, sitting at the foot of the bed to stroke Deryn’s knee, “We just had a word with the doctor.”

 

Deryn nods her head, knowing that there’s nothing positive or negative she can contribute that will make this any easier for either of them.

 

“They call it _acute blood loss,_ and it may be happening for a number or reasons,” she takes a deep breath, “…But the short of it is that your body just isn’t doing what it needs to do. Your heart pumps blood you see, but it seems that you just don’t have enough. So what we’re going to do is find someone nice enough to share some of theirs, and then you’ll be better.”

 

If that really were the answer and Deryn _was_ going to get better, Da would be over here stroking hew knee too.

 

Either way, Deryn smiles and nods her head. How exactly do you tell your mother that you’re sure you’ll never grow up? How do you tell your father that he’ll never walk you down an aisle, or more importantly, ride in his balloon again? It’s just not the sort of thing to say in polite company. So Deryn holds still for the kiss and feebly asks for some more tea and to see if any of her classmates have left her homework in the mail slot. She’s been out of school for so long and she’d _hate_ to fall behind.

 

After Ma leaves Da stays behind for a long while, just looking out the window. Deryn reaches out a trembling arm and croaks, and its like he’s been dunked in cold water. Immediately shaken from his trance he comes to sit by her, taking her pale skinny arm and rubbing his thumbs in circles over her wrist.

 

“That’s not all of it, is it Da?” Deryn asks, out of the two of her parents Da was the one she could always trust the most.

 

Her father swallows, and then sighs.

 

“You’re a special little lass, inside and out,” He tells her, “And you need special blood or you’ll be even more sick. Neither me or you Ma has the same kind, so we’ll need to ask someone else.”

 

Deryn nods, though that isn’t much more then she already knew.

 

“Why does he want us to find another doctor?” she asked.

 

“Apparently there’s some epidemic in London,” Da says, “Similar symptoms to yours, but far more volatile. That means most of state physicians are headed over the boarder to help, and there’s not a lot of supplies left behind.” He sighs and looks away.

 

“And we can’t afford one of the private ones from the West End,” Deryn finishes for him.

 

Obviously he wants to assure her that they _will_ find a way, but neither of them have the energy to believe it. Da just sits beside her bed, then takes a deep breath in and releases it before leaning forward to kiss her forehead.

 

“We’ll find someone,” he assured her, “There’s quite a lot of us, after all.”

 

Deryn smiled at the joke, understanding the meaning. They had real family yes, but Ma had always been something of a socialite. Just about everyone in their neighborhood came to Maggie Sharp when something needed to be done, and once word got out of exactly what her little girl needed, no one would think twice about helping. Through kindness and a working-class grit their family ties had transcended that of blood.

 

Ironic, when you stopped to think about it.

 

There were many visitors over the next couple of weeks. No one wanted to admit they were saying goodbye, so Deryn agreed to be a bridesmaid at weddings, promised to make it to birthdays, and blushed obediently at the mention of handsome nephews and cousins who were just _dying_ to have a word with her. Deryn hoped these poor lads had at least agreed to be a bribe, it’d only be awkward for everyone otherwise.

 

Deryn had even heard mumblings that Uncle Terry would be dropping by for a visit. When she had heard that Deryn almost thought she was dreaming, Da’s and his brother absolutely _loathed_ each other. But then there he was one morning, standing at the door with his cap in his hands. All smiles that didn’t reach his eyes just like everyone else.

 

It was almost surreal how he out of everyone who had shown their support actually knew Deryn the least, even more so when the tests came back that they shared a blood type. With the threat of death no longer looming over Deryn’s head, she could see the humor in the fact that out of fifty friends and family it was the estranged Uncle she had barely met that would save her.

 

Or at least they all _thought_ he was going to save her.

 

That’s what Ma assured her anyway, even days after Terry came to stay still no word of when exactly they’d preform the transfusion. Da spent those days marching about the house in a fit of fury, the hatred emanating from him worse then it had ever been at Christmas. One night Deryn laid awake, in too much pain to sleep but too weak to call Ma for more medication, and she heard the shouted conversation from downstairs.

 

“I can’t stick around here for months! I have get back to the factory, I got my own kids Arty!”

 

“You _cannot_ be serious.”

 

“All you need to do is hire one of those doctors from the West End, I’m sure your _fancy_ university pals would love to chip in. Or do you just bring them up in front of Ma to belittle me?”

 

“What in blazes are you on about?”

 

“Admit it Arty, you _always_ thought you were better then me, and now you’re just making me the villain _again._ ”

 

 _“_ My daughter is going to _die_ you _bastard!”_

 

Those last words shook the house, Deryn reckoned everyone on the block would have heard them. Now she could see why Ma and Da wanted to keep all of it from her. It was so much worse swallowing her own fate when she knew how close she had been to escaping it. But despite it all, she couldn’t bring herself to get angry. She was just too weak, to cold.

 

Uncle Terry was gone by morning, and by evening the next day, Da as well. Desperate, he’d manage to pull together enough money to _maybe_ get some help. Even if West End doctors would sneer at a dirty girl from Northern Glasgow, maybe Da could find someone in London who was willing to help them. Deryn just tried to make herself believe that _of course_ Da didn’t sell the balloon to do it.

 

It seemed that she was going to make it to her birthday, at least. The pain was too unbearable to move and she spent most of her time either asleep or wishing she was asleep, but at least she would be fifteen in a month or so. That was something easy she could set her mind to. She didn’t have to wish for a miraculous discovery. Just a month, that’s all she wanted.

 

Finally the her birthday came, and Deryn decided to extend all her efforts until nightfall. Tomorrow she’d just let whatever was going to happen, happen. Apparently she had a say in this sort of thing, according to the pastor. Not that the pastor had been about recently. For whatever reason all the brothers and sisters of the church had gone to London to help with the epidemic as well.

 

Deryn also stayed made sure to stay awake because she was sure today Da would come back. Throughout the hours of well wishing and gifts Deryn knew that Da wouldn’t miss her last birthday. He couldn’t, even if he was sure he’d find a doctor he’d _have_ to come home for her birthday. But the hours rolled by and still no Da, and after Ma blew out the lights after kissing her forehead, Deryn finally allowed herself to cry.

 

Throughout all of this Deryn had refused to cry, refused to scream and beg whoever was up there to let her live. She was so sure that he’d be back, sure that fate couldn’t be _that_ cruel _._ All she wanted was to say goodbye. Didn’t he want to say goodbye too? Under heavy blankets Deryn sobbed herself to sleep, hoping that she’d wake up somewhere warm and kind in the sky. There weren’t any faces she expected to see there, but Gran always said that you could watch from up high. Maybe then she’d see what Da was up to, maybe find some justification as to why he’d let her die alone.

 

Deryn felt so cold, she’d never felt so cold in her entire life.

 

But then she woke up, saw a dark figure sitting hunched over at the foot of her bed. Though unable to even move hours before, Deryn found the strength to sit up and tuck her knees under her chin as she had done as a little girl.

 

When Da opened his arms to her, she fell right into them. Deryn was much too old for cuddling really, but it was a special occasion seeing how she was dying and all. He pulled her into his large safe chest and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Almost immediately she felt happiness flood her entire being, coursing through her body like a hot drink. Positively beaming, Deryn allowed Da to lay her back in bed and place a kiss onto her forehead. There were whispered words of goodnight, and Deryn slipped away into complete peace.

 

It came as a shock to everyone when she woke up the next morning. Even she didn’t know what had happened, last night she was sure she was as good as gone but now Deryn was practically bouncing off the walls. The moment she could feel her legs Deryn raced downstairs in her nightdress, feeling more well then she had in months.

 

With a smile so large it threatened to sting she looked about the baffled faces of the kitchen.

 

“Where’s Da?” Deryn asked, brows knitting together.

 

No one answered her, they were too busy exclaiming at her sudden burst of energy and singing thanks to a cross on the mantle that hadn’t been there before. Deryn kept asking where Da was, but was instead whisked away to the nearest hospital.

 

The Doctor was astonished to report that Deryn’s illness seemed to have evaporated overnight. For whatever reason her heart thudded strong and true once again, as if her body had just decided to work in some valiant final effort. It was only after she received a miraculous bill of complete recovery when Ma finally seemed to understand Deryn’s questions.

 

“Whatever do you mean Deryn?” she asked, “You’ve only just gotten better this morning, Arty wont be home so quickly.”

 

Deryn shook her head and told her Da had come to see her in the night, which only made her Ma smile.

 

“You had a vision lass,” she said, “Your body must have known it was going to get better.”

 

Deryn frowned and nodded, even though that seemed an oddly specific vision. Either way, it didn’t matter that Da was away now. Deryn was going to see him again, she was going to see _everyone_ again. She’d be a bridesmaid at all of the weddings, attend every birthday party, and politely turn down every handsome nephew and cousin.

 

Riding the high from a day of celebration, Deryn practically fell back into bed that night. Smiling up at the ceiling she hoped that the letter would arrive in London soon, or even that Da was on his way now. Closing her eyes, Deryn felt lighter, even lighter then she had before falling ill.

 

This time she awoke immediately when she felt Da’s weight at the end of the bed. Immediately she opened her mouth to babble about her recovery and ask if he really _had_ sold the balloon, but looking into his eyes caused her to pause. It wasn’t like the angry look she got when doing something naughty, not at all. The look he gave her was so loving and safe that everything else seemed to melt away.

 

Deryn was somewhere warm, impossibly warm, the only thing she cared about was Da hugging her close and the happiness that washed over her. Again he lay her down in bed, and before Deryn could even croak out a goodnight she had fallen asleep.

 

When Deryn asked about Da the next day Ma just shook her head. Everyone was a bit worried because they weren’t sure if he’d even _seen_ the letter. Ma assured Deryn that, what with the public health crisis in London, the post was probably slow.

 

That night she saw Da again, and by the way her body lurched into his arms without her telling it to, Deryn was sure it was a dream. The next morning she told herself that her ‘visions’ only meant that Da would be coming home safely. They had to be, why else would they feel so real?

 

Three more days and three more doctor’s inspections told her that Deryn was ready to return to school. The instructors noticed she seemed sharper then usual, and was able to pick up the material quickly. By the end of the week she was fully caught up, and even managed to read ahead a few chapters.

 

One day when returning home from school, Deryn noticed a dread hanging over the household. For the awful minutes it took for Ma to sit Deryn down and prepare the news, Deryn thought that maybe Da was in trouble.

 

When Ma told her it was Uncle Terry, Deryn felt a guilty sort of relief.

 

He had been admitted to the hospital a week ago for the same sort of sickness that had plagued Deryn. After screaming at the doctors about shadowy attackers in the night, he had been moved to the psychiatric ward. There he had killed himself, torn out his own neck with his fingernails, by the looks of it.

 

Though she felt awful Deryn couldn’t help but also be intrigued by the story. Apparently in his final fit of madness he had trashed his hospital room fending off the supposed attacker. The nurses even gossiped about him begging for forgiveness in the dead of night. Stories began to form as they so often do, but Deryn was fifteen now and above such silliness.

 

After Terry’s death Deryn began to feel lethargic again. Maybe the guilt was wearing on her, but slowly she began to relapse into her illness. It wasn’t nearly as bad this time, this time at least she could walk about during the night, but in the day she was sleepy and irritable. The sun pricked her eyes and made her skin itch, as if the very lord was disappointed in her. But worst of it all was that her nightly visions of Da had stopped. Ma said Deryn should take that as a sign he would be home soon.

 

It was another eighteen deaths before the authorities announced the London Epidemic had come to Glasgow.

 

Citizens were advised to stay indoors, no one could leave their district without express permission. This was easier for the richer neighborhoods, with their fancy houses and grounds they could stay indoors for weeks. The doctors even said that the infection was less on their end; the worst of it seemed to be in the North Side.

 

Every day more bodies were discovered in their own homes, the wicked illness leaving them cold and still with only a horrified expression to show that they had ever lived. It was almost as if they had died of fright alone. The authorities were hesitant to allow citizens to catch glimpses of the corpses, even loved ones were told to stay away for their own health. Soon their own bobbies weren’t allowed to retrieve the dead, the infection so volatile that specially trained state physicians had to come and dispose of them.

 

The first whispers of the ‘Epidemic’ being rubbish began to spread.

 

More and more people swore to memories of their homes being invaded that were too real to be nightmares. Rumors spread about rooms and houses in states of disarray, the deceased trying to defend themselves against some monster. When loved ones began to find bloody slashes about the victim’s neck, everyone began to panic. Windows and doors were boarded up, prayers given to whatever god still cared about them, no one _dared_ go outside.

 

Deryn didn’t mind the house arrest much, but her sleep schedule was heavily affected by it. Every night she was full of a spontaneous energy that refused to let her sleep, only to be too exhausted to get up in the mornings. The visions started to return, making Deryn only more twitchy and irritable by day.

 

For whatever reason she didn’t care about these mysterious boogeymen. The only victims were adults, and no one from Deryn’s closely knit neighborhood of friends and family had been attacked. Besides, if Deryn really _was_ a target, she wouldn’t be seeing her Da in her dreams every night now would she?

 

It was a bit shocking to her when she realized he was probably dead, and was actually a bit glad of the fact. That meant that the dreams _were_ a sign, that he was some sort of guardian angel protecting her in the night. It really didn’t matter anymore that he had sold the balloon. Angels had silvery wings didn’t they? And Deryn could always buy a new one once this whole affair was over.

 

The word “Vampire” was being tossed about, as well as talk of “Vampire Hunters”.

 

The general public were told to look out for signs that a loved one might be infected, a redness around the iris, lethargy during the day, and a disinterest in news that would have once devastated them. Ma began to shake Deryn out of bed more urgently every morning, but Deryn refused to get up. She didn’t _care_ what anyone thought. Deryn knew that Da was protecting her, she was going to be just fine.

 

One night, the vision was different. Da was at the end of her bed, but for some reason he seemed more nervous then usual. He did not open his arms, and when Deryn rose to greet him he stopped her.

 

“I’m sorry…” he said, his voice a dry sob, “I didn’t think…I thought that so long as I…”

 

Deryn was confused as to what this dream meant in relation to her being protected, or why she couldn’t see the blue in his eyes anymore. For the first time since having these dreams she was more aware, and could properly make out Da as he trembled.

 

Before she knew what was happening, she was outside of her bedroom and in Da’s arms as he ran through the streets. Deryn was fully awake now, excited as she thought he was going to fly. At fifteen she was far too old to be carried like a baby, but _anything_ was worth being in the sky again!

 

Instead she heard only shouts, saw flickers of light in the distance. Da mumbled strange terrified words under his breath, and Deryn slowly realized what was happening.

 

They were being pursued!

 

Deryn asked Da if the vampires had gotten Ma or Jaspart or his little boy but Da didn’t listen, only continued to run. She beat her fists against his chest and begged him to tell her, finding that she was unable to form tears even in her terror.

 

They ducked into an alleyway to hide, Da removed a dark cloak and wrapped it about Deryn’s shoulders. He didn’t listen when she told him she wasn’t the least bit cold, or even react when she begged for them to go back and save the others.

 

For hours they stayed in that little ally, Deryn wrapped up in the dark cloak and glancing fearfully about. Tales of the creatures being able to smell fear came to the forefront of her mind, and Deryn chewed nervously on her knuckle. With a yelp of pain she drew her hand away and saw that she had bitten so hard to break the skin.

 

Deryn was too scared to notice the fresh cut didn’t bleed.

 

Finally the racket of screaming and curses died down, only for Da to swear again. Deryn peeked out from her cloak and saw that the sun was creeping across the cobblestones.

 

The cheer that Deryn wanted to shout died in her throat, for suddenly she felt awfully tired. The sound of Da’s words didn’t rouse her when he tried to drag her out of the alley. They were safe now after all, Deryn could finally let herself sleep. Pulling the cloak over her face she allowed herself to fall limp in Da’s grip even as he desperately tried to keep her awake. The begging and pleading fell upon deaf ears, Deryn only faintly noticed as the sunlight filled their little hiding place.

 

The screaming, however, managed to break through her exhaustion. Her eyes widened as she looked up to see Da’s very flesh burning with white hot flames that consumed his entire body. His cries of agony raked across Deryn’s very soul, but she found herself unable to move. Her body wouldn’t listen to her, all she could do was watch from her prone position wrapped up in the cloak. She couldn’t even bring herself to call for help, make any sound at all.

 

Shouting could be heard as men swarmed to find them. Deryn didn’t see what happened, but could head Da’s screaming come to an abrupt halt with a sickening squelch. She was being lifted then, the hood pulled back only slightly to reveal her face. There were words she could barely hear as she fought to stay awake. Sorrowful, lamenting as to how the monster could do such a thing to his own daughter, talk about giving her a proper burial. Deryn tried to open her eyes, tried to tell them she was still alive, but found she was only slipping away further.

 

 

The last thing she could remember was having her face covered up before they carried her away.

 

 


End file.
